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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917641">Examination For Science Of Course</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearoseglasses/pseuds/redroseglasses'>redroseglasses (tearoseglasses)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Medical Examination, Other, alright? alright., examination, i wrote this for me but you can read it, just in case thats triggering to read about, no real editing we die like men tonight, warning character has a vagina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:40:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearoseglasses/pseuds/redroseglasses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Courier fulfills an offer</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Courier/Dala, Transmasc Courier/Dala</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Examination For Science Of Course</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     He had been trapped in this hellscape for nearly two months now. The Lobotomites and Mobius’ robots had proven more difficult than he initially thought. How he managed to keep his sanity? No idea. The “Collective Genius” was rather strange toward him. Not that he blamed them for this reaction in the slightest. Dala was the only one of them to not shuffle around him like he was radioactive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She was unsettling at times, but not in a terrible way, Just. Her way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He’d come to the conclusion it was only because of her curiosity and nothing out of maliciousness like she’d initially come off as, describing the way she had removed his heart, spine, and brain, perfectly amazed that he had kept his sanity even still, even after waking up outside in the abnormal cold of Big MT and the rooms of the Think Tank. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He’d been able to finagle the heater in Mobius’ room but that was it and the think clothes he’d managed to put together after the one he was wearing were cut up to access his chest and back, but elsewhere? Still freezing. Apparently, gel can’t feel cold. Lucky them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     When Dala had seen the hair on his arms raise up un goosebumps she’d commented on it, her monitors getting closer than they had before she then noticed that he breathed, constantly and continuously, the air coming out in puffs before fogging up the glass, leading her to pull back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He’d shivered, teeth chattering for a moment before he clamped his mouth shut, rubbing his arms for some warmth, and that was all it took for Dala to damn the fog and move close once again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He’d stepped back a bit out of surprise, “You don’t remember being cold?” His voice strained a bit as he kept his teeth from chattering again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I remember it distantly… As I remember most… feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     And he thought that would have been that. But now it had been two months. And he had had plenty more time with the scientists. He still thought they were some of the stranger things he’d managed to fall into in the wasteland, but they weren’t absolutely terrible anymore. And he found warmer clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Yeah, so, uh, I usually just take a fusion cell and oscillate its charge, vibrates for like, an hour. Works for me. I don’t exactly understand how you’ll make use of it, but have fun!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “@@[=$+&lt;_*]@@? @@[$((((..%]@@. @@[$$]@@!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No problem.” He turned and immediately came to a stop, staring at one of Dala’s monitors. “Dala. Do you need something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I was wondering if you’d aid me in an… Experiment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Experiment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “... Sure. Here, or…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I believe you will be most comfortable in The Sink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Alright, I’ll just. Meet you up there then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Of course.” She backs off a bit allowing him to sneak past and to the elevator. Her right monitor twitches as the doors close. He walks into The Sink, relaxing in the wave of warm air. Shedding a layer and throwing the jacket onto the bed, he stares at the room. He hasn’t reactivated any of the gadgets leftover from Mobius. Not that he’d managed to find many of them. It usually felt more empty than he thinks it should, but that is fine. The scientists were well enough at conversation for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He looks behind him as the elevator opens up and Dala drifts in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Uh. Welcome.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “... Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “So… What did you need?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You offered to allow me to observe you once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I, you haven’t observed them before?” He falls back against SCIU, staying leaned against it. “With the other Lobotomites?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I see in them, but their brain has been removed by that point… And you, with your… strange ability to still walk and speak like those with a brain, you are special.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Would you still allow me to…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Wonderful…” She moves past him, opening a sealed panel on the wall, pressing a few buttons. The SCIU sinks, below the floor, a white operating table replacing it as, what he can only assume is a heavily modified Mark 2 Auto-Doc, stops just over it. A light on the Auto-Doc turns on, illuminating the table and the rest of the room. A secondary, adjustable light sits with other various medical tools. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Now if you’ll allow me…” Dala produces one metal limb with a scalpel-like end and he jumps back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I’ll take them off myself, it took me two freezing weeks to find these because you cut apart my clothes before!” He waits for her to lower the limb before pulling off his shirt and pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor. He sits up on the table, looking at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “What now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Just relax…” She moves closer as he lays back, another limb exposing itself. He stares at it for a moment to ensure it’s not the scalpel. One of her monitors follows his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “8 and I developed it… think of it as one of your fingers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “The streaks in it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Wires acting as false nerves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He tenses as the appendage touches his stomach. Dala’s monitors twitch again, out of the corner of his eye, he can see a 4th smaller and cracked one logging the details for her. The false finger moves slowly and more smoothly than he would have thought it could have. It moves upward, tracing over his chest. He jerks a bit as it moves over his nipple, an action that is instantaneously repeated on the other. The words on the smaller monitor type out too fast for him to read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Both eye monitors twitch as his breath picks up a bit. The false finger moves down, stopping as it hit fabric he had not removed, though he should have expected to be asked to. One eye looks at him, the other staying locked on the finger. He sits up, hooking a finger on the worn elastic and pulling them down. He kicks them off, managing to land them with his other clothes before laying back down. He stares at the small monitor, watching the letters race across it as the finger moves over his legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     One monitor follows the finger and the other watches him as the false finger move over coarse hair. He puts an arm over his face, biting his wrist as the finger moves down, over his clit with more pressure than was appropriate. Not that stuffing his mouth with his own wrist would exactly help Dala realize that. The finger continued downwards, leaving for a moment. He lifts his arm just long enough to see her scraping slick off the finger and into a vial before dropping it back down as she resumes her activities. </span>
</p>
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